


I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm

by clearlyneedsjesus



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avengers On Holiday, Florida, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, OR IS IT, Pining, Protective Steve Rogers, Smut, Soft Tony, Summer Vacation, Unrequited Love, Vacation, but they'll be okay in the end, horrible decisions really, horrible holiday shirts, so so many things, spoiler alert: its requited, what could go wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25505332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearlyneedsjesus/pseuds/clearlyneedsjesus
Summary: The Avengers on vacation...what could go wrong? Well, apparently a great many things. Steve was already mad at himself for single-handedly managing to plan the worst vacation ever (when all he wanted was to prove to Tony he has a place in this shiny new world...and maybe win his heart as well), and that was before Tony got kidnapped.Meanwhile, Tony only has three objectives: Survive this vacation (literally), keep his crush a secret from Steve, and keep his other secret hidden from everyone else...
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 229





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea burst forth in an airport waiting lounge while I was already missing everyone I cared for and hungry for some Soft Tony and Protective Steve. Hope you enjoy!

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve replied patiently.

“I could if I put my mind to it,” Tony sulked.

“Would it make you feel any better?”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “Hating something right now would.”

Despite best intentions, Steve couldn’t duck his head fast enough to hide a smile. Tony narrowed his eyes at him. The man should not be smiling right now (aside from the fact that Steve’s smiles were a thing of beauty – pure, unequivocal sunshine that made you feel warm and content and vaguely melty right down to your core – and he should always be smiling), not when it was entirely his fault that they were currently flying economy class to Florida. That’s right. _Florida._

“You couldn’t at least have splurged for first class?” Tony asked, squirming in his seat.

“It’s all part of the experience,” Steve insisted calmly. “Back in my day even this would have been a luxury. It’s certainly better than the last plane I flew in.”

“First off, I know you’re trolling me by using ‘back in my day’. That is the fifth time this week. I am _onto you._ ” Tony wagged a finger at the good captain’s face, but Steve’s placid smile remained firmly in place. “Secondly, the last plane you flew in _back in your day_ you crashed into the Atlantic Ocean. Bad example.”

“Fair point,” Steve conceded with a wince.

“Or, if you were so set against us flying first class we could have, you know, taken my personal jet.”

Steve grinned at him. “And miss out on the ambience?”

Tony arched a brow. “By ambience do you mean feeling crowded, queasy, and vaguely homicidal at the kid behind you that won’t stop kicking your seat? Oh wait – that’s _Clint_.”

On cue Clint poked his head over the back of Tony’s seat and grinned. “Please Stark, if you’d had your way, we’d be brunching exclusively at Disney land.”

“Or having a soiree on top of the Eiffel Tower,” Natasha chimed in.

“Or bungee-jumping off the Kremlin!” Thor boomed jovially.

Tony’s sulk intensified. “Bruce, as the only team member not adding to this heaping pile of crazy, you have officially been promoted to my favourite.”

Steve frowned.

“You’re just upset you lost the competition to decide where we go for vacation and that Steve won,” Natasha said.

“No, I am honestly shocked that Steve won the competition – like all of you are. Don’t pretend I don’t know you tried to cheat, wonder twins, and Steve _still_ beat you. I am upset that the competition was specifically designed so that I would lose, because you all thought I would pick somewhere horrible.”

Before someone could argue, there was a bought of turbulence that sent Tony’s heart rate rocketing and his hand shot out to grab the arm-rest. Only, as Steve’s hand was currently on said arm-rest, he managed to grab a handful of that as well.

He let go quickly but it was too late. Steve was looking at him in concern. That was his concerned face right there. The one that was impossible to resist because he looked like there was nothing more he wanted to do than make sure you were safe and fulfilled and okay. And Tony was never okay.

“Tony, are you alright?” he asked, all gentle and earnest and bad for Tony’s heart. Sheesh. How did they even make guys like him?

Tony muttered a reply.

“What was that?” he asked.

Tony huffed. “I _said,_ I’m not fond of flying.”

And of course, the others, who had scooted in to hear, started laughing. Or rather, Clint and Thor were laughing (actually, Thor’s laugh was loud enough to alarm their fellow passengers. A mother across the aisle was giving him a very dirty look while her two tiny tots looked on in awe). Natasha was smirking and Bruce was kindly hiding a smile. Yep, definitely his favourite.

Once Clint’s laughter had died down, he managed to wheeze out, “A little out of character don’t you think, Iron Man?”

Tony’s glare was caustic. “Flying the suit and flying packed in like a sardine in a great, lumbering death-trap designed by sup-par engineers who probably couldn’t tell an electrode from a electrolyte, are two very different things. One I can control, and the other raises my chances of being declared sexiest male celebrity to die before fifty by eighty-seven-point three percent.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Natasha piped in. “There’s no way you’re ever beating Heath Ledger.”

Tony ignored her. “At least on my own jet, I know it was designed by someone competent and that it has a mini-bar and dancing stewardesses to distract me.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Okay, control issues and narcissistic-personality-disorder. That sounds much more in character.”

Tony opened his mouth but before he could shoot back a no-doubt caustic-but-witty retort, another bout of turbulence had him gripping his seat with a white-knuckled grip. Well. His seat, and Steve’s hand. Lucky Captain Perfect had the serum on his side, or the grip Tony had on him might be slightly uncomfortable.

“Tony?” Steve asked, as gently as possible. Far too gentle than the likes of him deserved.

Tony managed a rueful smile. “I may also be a bit tired. There’s a lot going on at SI at the moment.”

Sure, the issues at _SI_ where what had him exhausted. Thankfully, the team seemed to buy it. The problem was, the turbulence wasn’t getting any better. Tony closed his eyes as he was tossed around in his seat. He couldn’t help but imagine the headlines: _Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist Dead in Plane Crash. Iron Man to The Rescue No More. Plane Crash Brings End to Stark Legacy._ Perhaps with a nice tie-in about his parents dying in a car-crash, and how they’re continuing the family tradition.

“Tony?” Steve asked more urgently. It wasn’t quite his ‘Captain America’ voice (the one Tony barely ever disregarded, and which might also have featured in a few wet dreams), but it was close. Still, it wasn’t enough to make him open his eyes or respond.

The next thing he knew, a pair of strong hands were unclipping his seatbelt and he was being dragged into Steve’s lap. He knew he should open his eyes, should protest the indignity and insist that he was an adult, he could sit in his own seat just fine, but he didn’t. He didn’t feel undignified, he just felt safe. Captain America’s arms wrapped around him felt a thousand times safer than whatever protection a flimsy seatbelt could provide. Steve tucked Tony’s head into the curve of his neck, and he inhaled. Though he teased Steve – long and loud and often – about smelling like apple pie and freedom, Steve mostly just smelled fresh; like whatever laundry detergent he used, with a slight hint of sweat.

Little by little, Tony felt himself relax. Even if the plane did crash and they went down in a fiery inferno, a little thing like that wouldn’t keep the stubborn Captain from protecting him. Steve was warm and strong and familiar.

Steve would keep him safe.

-

Steve was also a fucking idiot.

Steve looked at his brochure and then back up at the hotel. “I swear it looked better online.”

That was probably true. Because anything would look better than the crumbling two-storey monstrosity of bad seventies architecture that declared itself the ‘Happy Day Inn’. The paint looked like it had originally been white but given up somewhere in the eighties in favour of a cracking beige colour, and the iron staircase and railing along the second floor was barely clinging to the side of the building. A sad, dying hydrangea bush out front appeared the only attempt at actual colour on the place, and even that was a stretch.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath in. He held it, counted to ten, and let it go. “It’s fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

They collected their keys from a bored, middle-aged man at reception who was more interested in watching the next episode of _According to Jim_ and scratching his beer gut than anything resembling prompt service. Even Steve’s polite smile was wavering by the time they got their keys. They filed out of the tiny reception office and Steve handed out their keys.

“Okay, it’s two to a room, so pick a bunkmate and let’s go get settled.”

“Well mom and dad clearly have to bunk together-” Clint said, turning away from Steve and Tony.

“Please tell me I’m not the mom in this scenario,” Tony said wearily.

Natasha smirked.

“-so I bags Tash and the top floor room.”

“Guess that means Lord of Sparkles and Green Sasquatch are rooming together.” Tony smacked Steve lightly on the arm. “Come on Spangles, I want to freshen up.”

Steve led their way up to the second floor, and the iron grating did indeed squeak ominously beneath them. Steve looked like he was starting to feel bad, and on another day Tony would be trying harder to reassure him that it was okay, but he hadn’t been lying. He had a lot on his plate at the moment, he was tired, and he desperately wanted to freshen up. The lingering smell of fear-sweat from the plane was not helping get him in the holiday mood.

However, when Steve opened the door, even he fought a wince. It was small, dingy, dirty, and most importantly, there was only one bed. Some days Tony wondered if someone up there hated him. If so, it was probably his father. He surveyed the room in silence for a moment before grabbing a few things from his duffel and disappearing into the bathroom.

This holiday was going to be just swell.

-

Perhaps Steve should have taken Tony’s advice. If he’d talked to a travel agent – or talked to anyone from the twenty-first century – perhaps he wouldn’t have been catfished by a hotel. But he’d been so happy when he’d won the competition and so determined to get this right that perhaps he’d been a little defensive when it came to the planning. Tony always did tell him that stubbornness was his first and major flaw. And okay, maybe he’d also wanted to prove to the rest of the Avengers that he wasn’t some backwards geriatric and that he could keep up with the rest of them just fine. He’d already mastered tablets and smartphones and all the odd dohickies and thingamajigs Tony had thrown his way. Thanks to Clint he also knew far more than he ever wanted to about Dog Cops, the Kardashians, and all the modern shows he was supposed to know about (call him old fashioned, but he’d take Tolkien over _Game of Thrones_ any day). And, to be fair, Natasha had tried her best to pry his sense of fashion from where it was firmly lodged in the forties, but the most adventurous he usually got were a t-shirt and jeans. But all in all, he thought he was doing well. He was doing okay. Maybe he’d never be a futurist like Tony, but as long as they didn’t leave him behind, he’d be okay. Maybe if he could prove he wasn’t some useless old relic then Tony would sit up and take notice. He’d watched the man flirt with people like he breathed, but he never flirted with Steve. All he wanted was for that sensuous gaze to be fixed on him, _just once_ , and then –

And then nothing. Steve shook his head to clear it of his daydreams. Tony didn’t like him like that, and he wasn’t going to press the issue. He valued his friendship too much to lose it. Instead he focused on unpacking his things and cleaning the sketchier surfaces with some wet wipes. He’d just about finished when Tony emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and wearing an itty-bitty pair of swim shorts. In red. Steve’s brain immediately ceased functioning. They were so tiny they could almost be called speedos. And the way they _clung_ …which Steve got a good view of as Tony sauntered past him, declaring that he was going to lounge by the pool for a bit. Steve let out a strangled grunt.

Tony glanced over his shoulder and Steve just managed to bring his eyes up to Tony’s face in time. _Friendship thoughts friendship thoughts friendship thoughts._ “Sure,” he managed. “Sounds swell.”

Tony arched a brow but headed out without saying anything. Steve grabbed his beach bag and followed him without thinking. How could he think? He was lured by the sway of Tony’s ass, swinging side to side. It was hypnotising, like a pendulum, except infinitely better. Each curve was full and round, and Steve wanted to get a handful of each perky cheek and knead them. He wanted to pin Tony down and strip him out of those tiny shorts and lick him all over and –

And he really had to stop thinking about this before certain parts of his anatomy made themselves hard to ignore. He was already half-hard, and he willed down his erection. They’d already made it down to the pool, he realised, while he hadn’t been paying attention. Tony was spreading out his towel over one of the rickety lounge chairs and lying down on this front. Which meant Steve could ogle all he liked. But he resisted. Just.

Instead he took a seat on the lounge chair next to Tony and said the first thing that came to his head. “You really should put on sunscreen, otherwise you’ll burn.”

“I don’t need it,” Tony countered, not opening his eyes.

“Everyone needs sunscreen Tony,” he said primly. “Do you want to get melanoma?”

This time Tony did crack an eye open, even if it was just to look at him disdainfully. “I won’t get melanoma, not with my Italian skin. I just tan.”

Steve fixed him with a look. Tony looked back at him belligerently. Steve knew he was pestering, and coming off as overbearing, but he didn’t like the thought of Tony all red and burnt and in pain. And he was the first to admit that when it came to Tony, he did get rather…protective. Who could blame him though? It was a knee-jerk reaction since Tony’s own survival instincts and general common sense when it came to standard things like eating, sleeping, and not putting himself in harm’s way appeared to be almost at nil. Sometimes he wondered how Tony would have survived if the rest of the avengers hadn’t moved in. He probably would have cooked up an evil AI or something by now.

“Fine,” Tony sighed, shutting his eyes again. “Knock yourself out, Cap.”

Steve happily grabbed the sunscreen from his bag and squirted a whole heap into his hand before realising he hadn’t thought this through. He was going to have to touch Tony. He was going to have to touch Tony all over. And while the thought of that was both torture and bliss, it really wasn’t going to help with Operation Don’t Get a Boner. Still, he squared his shoulders. He could do this.

He put his hands to Tony’s skin and Tony let out a breathy little _‘ah’._ All the blood in Steve’s brain rushed to his cock.

“Sorry, sunscreen must have been cold, right?” he asked gruffly. Then he cleared his throat and set to work.

So, he rubbed Tony down. He rubbed him down good, making sure not to miss any spots along his back or his neck, or the backs and sides of his arms. When his hands started working down towards his lower back and his hips though, he couldn’t help but think about Tony’s bubble butt. There really was no other word for it. It was the sexiest ass Steve had ever seen and he wanted to bite it. His fingers started slipping further and further down, eliciting groans of a slightly more friendly nature. His hands had just gotten down to the curve of his ass, flirting under the seam of his shorts, when Tony cleared his throat.

“Getting a little friendly there, Cap.”

Steve immediately withdrew his hands. God, he was going to go to hell for this. Tony was his friend. He trusted him. And here Steve was lusting over him like some common fool. He busied himself pouring more sunscreen onto his hands and starting again at Tony’s ankles. God, even his ankles were beautiful. By the time he got to his thighs he’d circled through his internal monologue and ended up at the same conclusion.

Hell. He was definitely going to hell for this.

-

Meanwhile, Tony was half-hard and hoping his voice hadn’t come out as breathy as it had sounded in his head. He definitely wasn’t leaving the pool now. He had no way to turn over without Steve finding out how very comfortably uncomfortably his little sunscreen massage had made him. Curse Captain America for being so good with his hands…and Steve had such big hands too. Jeez, Tony needed a cold shower. Anything to get the sensation of his hands off his skin.

Then of course, to top things off, the whole crew arrived down at the pool.

“Friends!” Thor boomed. “We are going to play the game Clint calls pool-ey ball.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “It’s pool volley-ball, you great lug.”

“I don’t know,” Natasha said, tapping her lip. “I think I like Thor’s version better.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Okay let’s go people,” Natasha ordered, directing the boys to setting up the net and blowing up the volleyball. When it came to picking teams however, Tony bowed out.

“I’ll pass for the moment,” he said. There was no way he was leaving this lounge chair until he had flagged.

Clint pouted. “Come on Tony, you have to play. Otherwise the teams will be uneven.”

“That’s fine, I’ll ref for the first round,” Bruce said eagerly.

Tony sighed. He definitely couldn’t avoid his teammate’s enthusiastic clutches forever. Looks like Tony’s Tanning Time was over. Eventually (once he’d cooled off), they convinced him to join them. And they also ended up breaking the ball. And the net. And the pool. But Tony was fairly certain he could fix the last one before the owner noticed. Who knew? Perhaps he’d even improve it.

Once the kids were all tuckered out, they congregated in Tony and Steve’s room to watch crappy TV and devour a mountain of takeaway before Tony started groggily grumbling at them to leave so he could sleep.

When he closed his eyes that night his lumpy bed which smelled faintly of Doritos, he told himself it wasn't bad all things considered. He was here with family. All he had to do was hide his crush from Steve, hide everything else from everyone else, and things would be fine. Tomorrow could only be an improvement.

It had to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a kudo or a comment if you liked~  
> Chapter 2 coming soon ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Avenger vacay! Feat. Steve struggling over his feelings and Tony being ObliviousTM. Enjoy!

“What…is _that_?” Tony demanded.

It was bright and early the next morning, the Florida sun only outshone by the harsh glare of the godawful Hawaiian shirt Steve was wearing.

The man with a plan glanced down at himself. “A shirt? Clint told me this kind was traditional for vacations.”

“ _Clint._ ” Tony eyed the open doorway murderously. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, you’re like a walking meme, Rogers.”

“A what?” Steve peered at him curiously. “Oh! You mean a me-me.”

Tony’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Did Clint…?”

“Yes-?”

“ _WHAT THE FUCK, BARTON?”_

Clint went streaking past their room, but Natasha grabbed him by the collar before he could get away. He had tears streaming down his face from laughing too much.

“In my defence,” he wheezed, “he said it like that in the first place. I just didn’t correct him.”

By the time Tony had finished chewing the little bird brain out for taking advantage of Steve’s lack of twenty-first century know-how, the rest of the team had congregated outside Steve and Tony’s room, ready for a day of tourist-ing. (God help Miami). Steve didn’t seem bothered by Clint’s prank, and decided to keep the shirt on. Which was painful for Tony, primarily because even with it on he was still more stunning than every California model Tony had ever met. At least he’d left the socks ‘n sandals combo at home. Thank God for small mercies.

The rest of the Avengers were only mildly less of a disgrace. Natasha was wearing a cute summer dress, sure (which upon closer inspection was actually decorated with tiny daggers), and Bruce was as inconspicuous as usual in a tee-and board shorts, but the rest of them… Clint had clearly decided to save time by wearing his bright purple swim shorts around, and a shirt that read ‘watch out, big and dumber coming through’. Thor’s tiny shirt said, ‘I’m big and dumber’. And he had crocs. Actual crocs. Tony wasn’t even sure if that could be blamed on Clint or whether the god had just rolled out of bed with a craving for awful footwear.

So they spent the day doing touristy things. They went sight-seeing on one of those hop-on, hop-off, open-top buses and took pictures of South Beach, Little Havana, and Coconut Grove. Steve took them to the museum to learn about Miami’s history (which, come on, it was _Miami_ ) and then on the swamp cruise Thor wrestled an alligator and scared the crap out of their tour guide. Bruce and Nat bought frankly hideous flamingo shot glasses and a black shirt covered in flamingos for Steve. God bless him he actually seemed touched by the gesture.

Tony wanted to set his eyeballs on fire just looking at the thing.

By the time they went out for dinner, Tony was exhausted. He ordered a drink with his Cubano, and Steve quietly asked if he should be mixing alcohol with his medication.

“It’ll be fine,” Tony assured him.

And promptly passed out ten minutes in.

“Tony?” Steve asked quietly, brushing a dark curl out of the man’s eyes. He tried shaking the man’s shoulder gently. He glanced back at the rest of the team. “I can’t wake him.”

“Did you even try, you big softie?” Nat rolled her eyes.

Steve ignored her and carried the genius back to the hotel.

When Tony woke up in a cold sweat a few hours later, Clint was there putting nail polish on his toes. At that stage, he couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed. “Where am I?” he slurred groggily. “How’d I get home.”

“Steve carried you.”

“Steve _carried_ me?” Tony ran a hand over his face. “Please tell me it wasn’t bridal style.”

Clint snickered. “Actually, it was a fireman’s carry.” He pulled out his phone to show him.

Tony blinked at the image of himself tossed over Steve’s shoulder like a bag of potatoes, one strong hand braced on his ass and the other arm wound around the back of his knees. He groaned and slumped back to the bed. He was so goddamn tired.

“Are you okay?” Clint asked, pausing in his nail-painting. “You don’t usually pass out before the tenth drink. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were losing your edge.”

“Just exhausted,” Tony said. He wasn’t going to tell them any more than that.

Clint slapped his leg. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re on vacation.”

-

“The beach?” Steve repeated dubiously.

Nat, Clint, and Thor were lined up in front of him, dressed for the day. Natasha had a cute kimono decorated with spider’s web thrown on over her bikini, and Thor was wearing a pair of inflatables (though Steve wasn’t sure where they’d found a pair that would fit over his enormous biceps). Bruce was slinking around the edges underneath a t-shirt and cap that read ‘unwilling vacationer’. Steve wondered whose idea that had been.

“Come on cap, it’s Florida,” Clint whined. “You can’t go to Florida without going to the beach.”

“It is pretty high up there on the list of things to do,” Nat added in.

Steve understood that. And in fact, Steve had been all for it a minute ago. Then he had remembered Tony’s itty-bitty red swim shorts. While it was one thing for Tony to wear such revealing clothing around him, he really didn’t want to fight with the entirety of the Miami coastline for Tony’s attention.

Then the man in question appeared, thankfully wearing some casual clothes over top of his swim shorts for the moment. He clapped his hands together. “Alright people, what’s the hold up? Let’s go!”

“Steve doesn’t want to go to the beach,” Natasha informed Tony. There was a speculative gleam in her eye that Steve didn’t like at all.

“Doesn’t want to go to the beach?” Tony spluttered. He turned on Steve. “You’re wearing your swim clothes.”

Steve set his chin stubbornly.

Tony sighed, and wrapped a hand around Steve’s bicep, stepping in close. Steve tried to pretend his breathing didn’t hitch at the close proximity, that his heart didn’t speed up a little. “Is this about the sunscreen thing again?” he asked quietly. “Because I promise to protect my body from the bad, bad UV rays.”

Forget the UV rays. Steve wanted to do bad, bad things to Tony’s body himself.

“It’s not that-”

Tony tilted his head to the side, gazing up at Steve through his thick lashes. Steve swallowed. How did Tony not know what he looked when he did that?

He cleared his throat. “Never mind, let’s go.” He used his Cap voice for good measure.

When they got to the beach however, Steve was ready with a back-up plan. The minute Tony disrobed Steve pulled his arms above his head and wrestled him into his own shirt. Tony spluttered at the indignity, but once the dust had settled, he simply stared down at the flamingo shirt in shock.

“What – what the fuck?” Tony spluttered.

Steve would admit, the shirt was a little loud for his taste. Mostly he just enjoyed wearing it to wind Tony up. And now of course, he also got to enjoy Tony wearing his clothing. God, he could just imagine Tony crawling out of bed in the morning and dressing himself in a button down that Steve had abandoned from a night of debauchery the evening before. And then Tony would look over his shoulder at Steve with that flirty little grin he had, and Steve would pull him back into bed for round two-

And nope, nope, it was time to stop that line of thinking right now. For a time when Tony wasn’t dwarfed in his shirt. He eyed him smugly.

“And just what is that smug look for, Mr Star-Spangled Man With a Plan?” Tony demanded, stepping into Steve’s space to poke him in the chest.

That was problematic too. Because straight after seeing Tony wearing his things, came seeing the height difference between them. Out of the suit, or his usual lifts, Tony was several inches shorter than Steve. The fact that he had to step into his space and look up at Steve destroyed any attempt at intimidation and just left him…adorable. To Steve at least. He wanted to scoop Tony up into his arms and never let him go.

Again, slightly inappropriate thoughts to be having about your work colleague.

“Nothing,” he smirked. “Just protecting your body from the bad, bad UV rays.”

“Cut the snark, Captain sassy-pants. I know you too well for that.” Tony narrowed his eyes at him. “And for the record, you have worn far more embarrassing things than I have. So if this is an attempt at hiding away all this natural beauty? Not gonna work.”

Tony didn’t know how close he was. Steve just shrugged and said. “If I was planning on that I would have brought a hat to match.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Enough fashion talk.” She dropped her kimono. “Thor, to the water!” she commanded, and in one sleek movement, swung herself onto his shoulders.

Thor charged in delight, like a noble steed – Sleipnir off to take on the Atlantic Ocean. Bruce laughed and set off behind them at a more leisurely jog.

Tony snorted. “Bets on how long it’ll take sparky sparky boom man over there to destroy the beach?”

“Pardon?” Sometimes Steve had trouble telling which of Tony’s odd sayings were common and he would be expected to know, and which were ridiculously eccentric even by modern standards. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “This is why you need to watch _Avatar_.”

“Is that the one with the blue people?”

Tony smacked his arm. “ _No._ This is completely different. Though that’s a good movie too,” he allowed.

Steve wracked his brain. “Is this the one you kept saying ‘not my cabbages!’ from?”

Clint cackled. “Comedy gold.”

Tony and Clint high-fived. “Someone gets it.”

Steve tried to pretend he wasn’t jealous. That he didn’t feel a little flutter of envy as green as the hulk every time Clint displayed an easy comradery with Tony just by understanding the twenty-first century and all the things that Steve should already know.

“I’m afraid I haven’t heard of it,” Steve said politely, trying to reclaim Tony’s attention.

Tony gave an exaggerated sigh. “And here I was hoping that this would be like the filler episode where the fire-nation teens bond over traumatising an island of vacationers through the power of teen angst and firepower.”

Steve frowned faintly. “No traumatising the locals, Tony. I’m not sure I want to watch this show. Or film. Whatever.”

“No, no, you’d love it,” Tony insisted, grabbing Steve’s arm. Steve tried to pretend that he didn’t live for the contact; that he didn’t wish Tony would cling to him all hours of the day. “Believe me, Aang would be your favourite for sure. A peaceful hero determined to save the world without bloodshed? You’re a dead ringer.”

Steve made a non-committal noise, though it did sound interesting. And of course, Tony knew him well enough to know what he was thinking, if the self-congratulatory gleam in his eye was any indication. He narrowed his eyes. “Which character would you most be like then?”

Tony snorted. “Probably Zuko. Exiled fire-nation prince who starts out a villain but who ends up joining the cause to help the Avatar save the world.”

“Best redemption arc ever,” Clint nodded.

“Then I think Zuko would be my favourite character,” Steve said earnestly.

Behind Tony, Clint mimed gagging. He frowned at the archer.

“Who’s your favourite then?”

“Uncle Iroh, all the way.”

“Oh yeah, now that’s fair.”

Steve was still trying to think of a way to get Tony alone and away from Clint that wouldn’t seem selfish and jealous when he chanced a look down.

“Tony, why are your toenails red, white, and blue?”

-

Tony woke sometime in the middle of the night, at once feeling awful and far too comfortable. His head was on fire. It felt like someone had shoved hot pins all over his scalp. But he was also wrapped up a set of strong arms, warm and floaty and comfortable. He peeked over his shoulder to find Steve behind him. Of course. God, he wished he could stay there forever. The good captain was pressed flush against him, spooning with the single-minded determination Tony had come to expect of the national icon. And – oh. Tony’s mind blanked out for a second as he wiggled experimentally. His ass was pressed flush back against what was a more than impressive – er flag. Sure, Tony and Steve had shared showers before and caught each other once or twice naked in the field because of some odd circumstance. But he’d never seen Steve hard and he’d certainly never _felt_ it pressed up against his ass. God, that felt _delicious._

It was also wrong. Steve was his best friend, and Steve was asleep and didn’t know it was him. Who knew who he was dreaming about, but he hardly expected they’d ended up cuddling in the night as a part of Steve’s master plan to win him over. He definitely wasn’t worth that.

He tried to swallow, and a stab of pain flashed through his head again. “Ugh,” he moaned. God, it was just getting worse. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to avoid telling the team for at this rate.

Reluctantly, he shrugged out of Steve’s grip and out of bed. Steve made a low growling noise and sleepily clung to him, but Tony was slipperier than an eel. Just ask his investment brokers.

He shrugged into one of the inn’s godawful dressing gowns – then briefly regretted it, in case they had lice or something – and a pair of slippers, before slipping out the door. Ice. Even this hotel had to have ice, right? He spotted a container named so at the end of the landing and made a bee-line for it.

“Come to momma,” he grumbled.

He was halfway to the ice bucket when a door opened to his right and the inn-keeper staggered out, immediately dropping whatever he was carrying. Tony looked at the inn-keeper. The inn-keeper looked at Tony.

Another man stepped out of the room over the object they’d dropped and yep, that was definitely a body. The man’s boot clipped the side of the bag and the bag let out of whimper. A live body at least.

“Greg, why’d you-? Oh.”

Oh, indeed.

“Well,” Tony spread his palms in the universal I-mean-no-harm gesture. “This is awkward.”


	3. Chapter 3

Steve woke up and Tony was gone.

Though not the most surprising thing Tony had ever done – and boy, did Tony live to surprise them – it _was_ out of character. Usually Tony was the one they had to drag out of bed in the mornings, so Steve was naturally a little concerned. He threw on some clothes and wandered out into the hotel to try and find him. Nothing. He wasn’t by the pool, he wasn’t making love to the coffee machine, he wasn’t talking the ear off the janitor, or the receptionist, or that sweet old couple that had flown in last night from South Beach. He dropped by the team’s rooms, but no one had caught sight of him since last night. He tried texting but got nothing back.

Okay, now Steve was slightly more concerned. He sent a group text saying he was going to look for Tony and Nat messaged back that she and Bruce would check the local hospitals, and Clint and Thor said they’d check out the beach and local malls. Steve started with the bar they’d gone to the other night. God it would be terrible if Tony had relapsed, but right now he just wanted to find him. Nothing could be more terrible than the sinking feeling in his gut the longer he went without hearing from him. It was that slow slide that your body picked up on before your brain. Because you knew something was wrong, you could feel it in your bones, but at the start you could convince yourself that nothing awful had happened, that there was a perfectly good explanation for all of this. But the longer it went on the more that feeling rose to the forefront of your hind-brain and insisted you took notice. That this wasn’t just a bad feeling you could shake off, oh no. Something _was_ wrong.

And Steve had to act fast while he could still fix it.

“He wasn’t at the bar, or the police station, or at any of the local coffee shops,” Steve told the team when they congregated that afternoon.

“No luck with our searches either,” Nat said. She looked to Clint, but he just shook his head.

The gravity of the situation had settled over them like a cloak and Steve was about to vibrate out of his skin with tension.

“Right.” He squared his shoulders and marched to the front desk.

“Oh no, he’s in stampede mode,” he heard someone mutter behind him.

“Hello there, are you the manager?” he asked politely.

The man barely glanced over at him from where he had his feet up on the bench, a playboy magazine balanced on his beer gut. He grunted the affirmative.

“I’m Steve Rogers, room two-oh-three. I’d like to review your security footage. My roommate, Tony, had gone missing and I haven’t been able to locate him.”

The manager’s eyes did flicker to him at that, but he just shrugged. “We don’t have security footage here.”

Clint leaned over the bench with a dangerously sharp smile. “Then what,” he jabbed a finger at the security camera above the desk, “is that?”

The man flicked to the next page in his magazine. A girl young enough to be his daughter was spread across the hood of a car Tony would probably drool over and doing rather inappropriate things, not that Steve was going to judge her for it. “Blanks. They don’t do nothin’, just there to scare punks away.”

“Do you have a security guard then? Someone who might have been around last night when we think he disappeared? A janitor? _Anyone?_ ” Clint demanded.

The man rolled his eyes. “Calm your titties, he probably just wandered off to enjoy himself. No biggie.”

_No biggie._

Steve felt someone – Bruce – put a hand on his arm but his questionable grip on his temper was rapidly unravelling. He leaned forward, barely noticing how his grip on the counter began to dent the cheap wood. “Listen,” he eyed the name-tag of this useless human being, “ _Greg._ Perhaps you didn’t hear me when I said my friend is missing. His name is Tony, and I – we care about him very much. He is _missing_ and he wouldn’t just up and vanish without a word to us. You don’t know him. You don’t. So why don’t you get off your ass and actually pretend like you give a damn about any of the paying customers in this hotel for one goddamn minute, and check if there were any staff on duty last night that might have seen something?”

Greg closed his mag and sneered at Steve. “Tony, you said? Your ‘roommate’? Yeah, I really don’t think that’s my problem. Now why don’t you back the fuck up and get out of my face pretty boy?” Then Greg turned his sneer on Nat, “You though, sweetcheeks, feel free to get up in my business anytime you want. I got something I could give ya.”

Steve saw red. He was dimly aware of Bruce and Nat at either side, getting a grip on either arm, and Nat whispering, “Control yourself for a minute Steve, we still might be able to get something out of this asswipe”

Greg, who hadn’t heard the conversation, must have assumed they were talking him down for different reasons because he grinned at them. “That’s right. Run away. I’m sure your little fag friend will turn up somewhere.”

To say the situation went downhill after that was a drastic understatement.

-

“Steve did _what_?” Pepper demanded over the phone line.

Bruce, who was managing the phone while Nat held Steve’s knuckles under the running tap, fixed him with an exasperated look. “Broke the reception office. Broke the hotel owner. Not necessarily in that order.”

Steve’s above-baseline human hearing meant he could hear Pepper’s frustrated sigh with perfect clarity. “And he didn’t give you anything about Tony?”

“No. Wasn’t very forthcoming. Even before Steve wiped the floor with his face,” Bruce added lightly.

“You realise what a PR nightmare this is if it gets out right? Not because of the idiot mouthing off about Tony – though _Jesus_ Steve, if Tony’s developed a thick skin about the things people say about him you should have developed at least _some resistance_ to it – but because if word gets out that Tony is missing it puts him on the radar of every crook and back-water villain in the area that he’s up for grabs. You realise how much danger you might have just put him in?”

Steve’s hands clenched into fists and the skin across his knuckles split wider, even as the super-serum started to kick in and heal them. Nat fixed him with a frustrated look. “Yes Pepper,” she said dryly. “I believe he is aware.”

Tony was out there somewhere, he thought, as he watched the dirty-red water disappear down the drain. Tony was out there somewhere in danger and he didn’t have Steve there to protect him.

“And you and the good Rhodes have not heard from him?” Thor asked.

“No,” Pepper said. “Nothing. But JARVIS has just finished a background check on this hotel, and it looks like there’s been some shady stuff going on there.”

Of course. This fucking hotel. Why didn’t Steve pick somewhere else? Anywhere else? If he had just sucked it up and asked Tony’s advice when he was planning this vacation, he could have avoided this in a heartbeat. All it would have taken was a three second search and Tony would have said, ‘nope, pick another hotel Steve, and call the local authorities while you’re at it’. Then Tony would be here now, probably sitting with his feet in Steve’s lap and looking at him with those impossibly warm brown eyes of his; the ones that just looked at you and _saw_ you and accepted everything about you. He’d never had someone look at him as fondly as Tony did. He’d never felt so known. God, he loved Tony and it was all his fault that he-

“Of what nature is this ‘shady stuff’?” Thor asked.

“Few noise complaints, some aggravated assault, and at least three people who went missing from there or nearby in the last two months. Local authorities have them noted down, but there’s no concrete evidence that the hotel is the one behind anything and they’re already stretched thin as it is.”

“Florida,” Bruce said wryly. “Crime capital.”

Steve stared at him. Crime capital? When had that happened? How had he not known that? And he’d chosen to take them _here_ for their vacation? Some leader he was.

“What I don’t get,” Natasha said slowly, as she shut off the water with a decisive _snick_ , “is how Tony managed to disappear so quietly. Tony is not a quiet person. If someone came after him there’s no way he’d get taken down without creating a fuss big enough for us to have heard about it. So why haven’t we?”

The marked silence on Pepper’s end was damning.

Steve strode back into the bedroom and politely took the phone from Bruce. “Pepper? Is there something you know that you’re not telling us?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking-”

“And what am I thinking?” he asked quietly.

“Well – I mean, I’m not sure if this had anything to do with the situation but – and you have to realise he asked me not to say anything so I – I really-”

“Pepper,” Steve said gently. “Tony is in trouble. He wouldn’t blame you for revealing something if you thought it would help us find him.”

Silence from her end.

“And Pepper, I _really_ want to find him. So whatever it is, I’m not going to judge him for it, and I even promise that I probably won’t yell at him about it. At least, until after he’s safe.”

She blew out an exasperated chuckle. “You’re both as stubborn as each other sometimes. Okay listen, he kept insisting it wasn’t a big deal, but you know Tony…”

“He always insists it’s not a big deal,” Steve finished for her. Even when he was hurting.

“So when he tells me that he’s been feeling under the weather lately, I know it’s something more serious.” She huffed. “He’s been missing board meetings, falling asleep at work, and popping aspirin like they’re Halloween candy.”

“Stark’s sick?” Clint asked.

“He’s definitely something. And he won’t tell me what’s going on.”

“Rhodey?” Nat asked. She grabbed the antiseptic wipes from her bag and tossed them to Steve. 

“He’s noticed too but he’s as much in the dark as I am. He only figured something was up when he realised Tony had backed out of their sparring sessions for the last month. If there’s one thing Tony’s good at, it’s putting on a show.”

Bruce sighed. “Okay Pepper, can you keep looking into things on your end? We’ll let you know if we find out anything more here.”

Pepper agreed and signed off. Steve focused on cleaning out his knuckles meticulously. He didn’t even flinch. Then again, he was used to it by now. It didn’t compare in the slightest to the pain he felt at Tony being missing. God, Tony. Where was he? Was he even – what if he wasn’t – wasn’t…?

“Steve,” Natasha laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to find him.”

He tossed the wipes into the bin and lifted his head high. “I know. Because I don’t know what I’m going to do if we don’t.” He straightened up. “Okay Avengers, let’s brainstorm ideas. I want the name of every enemy Tony has who’s on our blacklist, any villain we’ve faced recently who might have the motive or opportunity to do this.”

They just had to find him and get him back. Whatever trouble Tony had stumbled into, they would get him back.

-

Then someone tried to burn Steve alive in his sleep, and things got a little more complicated.

-

Tony awoke knowing he was in trouble.

Well. More trouble than usual. The thing was, he generally was pretty sure of his ability to get himself out of the trouble he got tangled into. This time, he wasn’t so sure. His head was on fire and he could feel the arc reactor working overtime. His muscles were weak too. God, to think he hadn’t even given them a decent fight. Him, who fought super villains on a weekly basis, and he’d been taken by Greg, the Happy-Day Inn-Keeper.

His dignity was never going to recover from this.

A movement to his right startled him into alertness and he watched as Greg and the other man stepped forward.

“Good. You’re awake.” Greg said. Unless Tony was imagining things, Greg looked a whole lot less pretty than the last time he’d seen him. The right side of his face was one giant mess of purple and green, and he was holding his arm funny. Something must have happened to him between last night and…and whenever it was now. How long had he been out?

“That would generally be considered a bad thing if you knew the people who usually kidnap me. Because unconscious generally equals not talking, and I’m going to warn you. I talk a lot. Not about anything important – I’m not going to tell you the secrets of the armour of Captain America’s super serum – but if you want me to talk about my traumatic childhood, I could go for days. Most would say it started with my father, but _actually_ I think it started with my nursemaid Bessie. Now Bessie, there was a real kick in the-”

“Shut it.”

“Of course, I also won’t talk about you and your pal here last night if that’s what you’re angling for. Clandestine meeting with another man after dark. That is something I won’t say a word about, no siree-”

He really should have seen the punch coming. But as usual, he didn’t.

As usual, he just had to deal with the fallout. Which in this case was the agony that ripped through his skull. Not because of the punch – he wouldn’t give Greg that much credit – but because of the punch on top of his illness. Maybe he should have just told Steve he was too ill to go on vacation. But that would have meant also telling Steve he was sick, because there was no way Captain Stubborn-pants would have rested until he knew why. And as soon as he knew why he would have been angry – or worse, disappointed – that Tony had kept this from him for so long. Which would have meant passive-aggressive sulking and moping and too long spent in the gym and him lurking in the living room supposedly watching infomercials – Steve hated infomercials – while actually just waiting for Tony to come home so he could give him those betrayed puppy eyes he did so well, and making the rest of the team avoid the room like the plague.

So really, Tony was doing a service hiding it from them. Only right now, he was kind of regretting it.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Who are you working for? Doctor Doom? Red Skull? Evil Knievel?”

“Shut up. Who is this?” Greg demanded, shoving a newspaper in his face.

“Do you want me to shut up or do you want me to tell you who this is, because I’m honestly confused here-”

Greg’s pal jerked him forward so that the paper was basically plastered to his face. “Okay, okay, back up so I can see what you’re shoving at me.”

They acquiesced and Tony was momentarily stunned. “Steve?” he said, without thinking about it. But it wasn’t just Steve. It was a shot of a shirtless Steve, smudged with soot, looking back at the a mildly-fire damaged room and looking downright cantankerous. He’d never tell Steve, but his cranky face was one of his favourites. And god, looking at Steve’s stunning pectorals, glistening with sweat and covered in ash was just about the best thing to have happened that day. His hair was ruffled and mussed to complete the look.

“I hope whoever took this shot got a raise,” Tony commented mildly.

“But who is he?” Greg demanded.

Tony blinked up at him, then down at the paper. True, it didn’t have Steve’s name or ‘Captain America’ written over it, but surely that was only a matter of time before someone noticed. Steve might not spend much time out of the hood on camera, but a face like that was worth remembering.

“What do you mean who is he? He’s Steve.”

If they were capturing Avengers, surely they had to know who he was.

“All I know is what’s on his reservation details, and that we took you because you stumbled on our operation, and we figured we’d take him out so no one would go looking for you but somehow he managed to survive when we set his room on fire. Pete was out back and he said he saw this psycho jump out a second-storey window like it was _nothing._ ”

“Mike, calm the fuck down.” Greg snapped.

Tony’s first thought wasn’t very noble, but nevertheless it was: _At least the Hawaiian shirt is gone._

His second was, “You tried to set Steve on _fire_?” Not that that was going to do much against Captain America. Still, he struggled against his bounds for a minute, furious despite the weak-ass attempt. They’d tried to burn his Steve alive. _His._

Unfortunately, Tony was still weak as a kitten. God Pepper was going to kill him when he got out of this. _If_ he got out of this.

He really should have taken his doctor’s advice and told the team.

A terrible thought was dawning on Tony though, one he couldn’t help but voice. “Let me get this straight – and please stop me if I’m wrong – but you don’t know who Steve is. You didn’t take me because of who he is or who I am or who my other travelling companions are, you just took me because I happened to stumble across your little coke slash human-trafficking slash what-the-fuck-ever operation as ass-o’clock in the morning and that’s it?”

Greg and Mike didn’t response but exchanged a look that confirmed every one of Tony’s fears.

He started laughing. Yes, he knew it was inadvisable while tied to a chair by a couple of angry human traffickers, but he really couldn’t help it. This was the stupidest thing he’d ever been kidnapped over. Kidnapped while going to get _ice._ Clint was going to bust a gut over this.

Then they set in on him and there was no more laughing for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry to anyone reading this who lives in Florida.

It was almost laughably easy how quickly Steve and the others managed to find Tony once they knew what they were looking for. After the small ‘incident’ with his room – and Clint was still teasing him over whoever had gotten a shot of him shitty, shirtless, and covered in ash for the front page – it was easy enough to find someone who’d clearly been in on it. The found a man waiting behind the inn and gave him the shake-down. He gave them everything they wanted to know. The names of the men who’d taken Tony, where they’d taken them, why they’d taken them.

Steve didn’t care about why. He just wanted to get him back.

“Steve,” Natasha said, laying a hand on his arm as the approached the dock-side warehouse.

“What?” Steve demanded, his eyes never leaving the building in front of him.

All around him his fellow avengers were spread out, ready for action. In another situation, he might have laughed. They were armed to the teeth but dressed in vacation clothes. Nat and Clint were wearing hot pink matching caps that read _see you later alligator_ and _in a while crocodile._ Bruce was in old-man khaki shorts. He was pretty sure Thor was wearing crocs. It was ridiculous. It also warmed his heart with something other than the gently burning fury that had been present since he’d woken up alone. This was his ridiculous family. _His._ And they’d be whole again once he got Tony back.

“You know how you never get upset about the stupid pranks Clint and Tony pull around the tower?”

Steve grunted. He could point out that Thor, and more rarely, Natasha also joined in on those pranks (though with Natasha, no one could ever prove it).

“Those two idiots pull all kinds of stunts. Stunts that would have driven a normal man nuts. But you never get angry. The only time I’ve ever seen you upset was that time Clint spiked Tony’s smoothie with something he didn’t know he was allergic to-”

“Tony had a mild anaphylactic shock,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“And you had a minor heart attack,” she said knowingly.

“What’s your point, Nat?”

His eyes were locked on the building beyond. He needed to get in there.

“Whatever hurts Tony hurts you too,” she said softly.

Nat moved directly into his line of sight, until he was forced to look at her, with her serious face and her pigtail plaits.

“Right now, you’re angry and you’re scared, I realise that. We are too. But you’ve always had this tunnel-vision when it comes to Tony getting hurt and it makes you act irrationally. Right now, we need the Cap that can think clearly and not jeopardise this mission by running in half-cocked. We need you, Steve. Tony needs you.”

“I know.” He looked down. “I – I love him Nat.”

“I know,” she said gently.

“Do you think – does he-?” God, this was embarrassing. He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“No, I don’t think he’s aware.” She rolled her eyes. “For someone with such a big heart, he has the emotional intelligence of a hedgehog.”

Steve couldn’t help a rueful chuckle.

“I also think that when we get him out of this, you should tell him.”

Steve wasn’t so sure. Tony had been delicate about relationships ever since Pepper. He knew Tony blamed himself for how it had ended and that he hated himself for hurting her. He also knew how devastated he’d been that it didn’t work out. He hadn’t had the best track record with relationships before that. Steve knew all about Sunset Bain, and then there had been the whole debacle with Madame Masque, and then betrayal from Rumiko too. And it wasn’t just romantic relationships that had left Tony less trusting. On one of those dark nights in the common room when neither of them could sleep, tony had confided in him the entirety of Obadiah’s betrayal. If he weren’t already dead, Steve wasn’t sure anything would have prevented him hunting him down that minute.

Tony let his guard down around very few these days, which meant that relationships were harder for him. It was hard for Tony to allow himself to trust. The fact that Steve currently was one of the few that had Tony’s trust, that he had been allowed the level of intimacy he currently had just meant he was even more eager not to screw it up. He wouldn’t risk his currently relationship with Tony over something so selfish.

Steve clenched his jaw. “Let’s just focus on getting him out first.” He squared his shoulders. “Avengers, assemble.”

Strategy was second nature to him, and this kind of mission was second nature to them all. His family fanned around him, and after a quick stop for planning, they spread out. Thor and Clint took the rooftop entry while Bruce and Natasha slipped through a basement window. That left Steve to come in with a distraction straight through the front. It was hard not to think about how, if Tony was here, he would be at Steve’s side, going in the front door guns blazing. He was his automatic partner in everything.

_Tony. Tony. Tony._

He was going to get him back.

Steve stormed through the base like a freight train, knocking out bad guys left, right, and centre. For a group that had supposedly managed to capture Tony, they didn’t appear very challenging. It sent a trickle of unease through him. His mind flicked back unwittingly to how Tony had passed out early the other night, to every comment he’d made about being tired, to Pepper’s hesitation over the phone. Suddenly his foe’s incompetence didn’t seem like a good thing; he was even more worried about getting his friend back.

Steve’s modus operandi also appeared to be perfect for distracting people, allowing the others to sneak in with relatively little resistance. The fire from a criminal on the second floor ceased abruptly and he looked up to see Thor standing over the man’s crumpled form like an avenging angel out of pop tarts. Steve nodded his head in thanks. However, these criminals also weren’t putting up much of a fight. Not because they had some nefarious and overly complicated plot to lure them in (thank you Doctor Doom), but because they were…useless. It was puzzling.

Steve stormed into a long, narrow room whose only occupants were a man and woman packaging coke. He took great pleasure reigning destruction.

Over the comms he heard Bruce say, “We’ve found a whole bunch of hostages in the basement. Looks like human trafficking.”

“From the fucking Happy Day Inn?” Clint chimed in. Steve didn’t have the energy to remind him about appropriate speech on the intercom.

“No. It looks bigger than that,” Natasha said. “I’m guessing Greg was working for someone higher up on the food chain.”

Steve clenched his fists. “Is Tony with them?”

“Negative.”

“Thor, Hawkeye? Anything up there?”

“A really shoddy surveillance system,” was the best Clint had to offer. “Honestly, I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”

“No sign of Tony, Captain” Thor replied.

Steve took a deep breath. He let it out through his teeth. “Widow, Bruce, you two concentrate on helping the victims. Get ambulance and police on the way and secure the room. Thor, you secure the perimeter. Hawkeye, I want a heads up on any reinforcements coming.”

He finished clearing the main floor, leaving a trail of unconscious and pitifully groaning criminals in his wake. “You think I’m bad,” he muttered. “Good luck dealing with the American health system.” He joined Natasha and Bruce downstairs. They’d only cleared the main room and so he went further down the darkened hallway, checking empty room after empty room. Until he found one that wasn’t empty. Until he found one with-

“Tony!”

Tony was crumpled on the floor, bloody, and blearily looking up at him while Greg loomed over him.

He threw Greg through a wall.

“Tony? Tony?” he asked, crawling to his side. He pulled Tony into his arms and stroked a shaky hand over Tony’s hair.

“Hey cap,” Tony slurred. “Good to see you.”

Only dimly aware of anything that wasn’t Tony in his arms, he relayed their position over the comms before turning his attention to Tony’s injuries. He was bloody, but most of it appeared to be bruising. There was a gash on his head and Steve was guessing he had concussion. He was holding his ribs funny enough that Steve bet they were bruised too. God, he had half a mind to go back for Greg and-

“Glad you’re here,” Tony murmured.

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble,” he said. His voice came out deep and rasping. “Not that I’m doing such a great job of that, clearly.”

Tony’s fingers stroked over his where he had them wrapped around Tony’s waist. “Not your fault, Cap. Went to get ice – went to get fucking _ice_ – and they jumped me. That’s just embarrassing.”

In a cool voice Steve said, “I’m more concerned about the fact that you’ve been ill and decided not to tell us.” Wow, he hadn’t known that was going to come out until it did. Clearly, he had some issues in letting that go.

Tony winced, which seemed to jar his ribs. He opened his mouth, but Steve clapped a hand over it gently.

“Sorry, sorry, not the time. We’ll talk about that later. Just stay with me okay?”

Tony’s eyes were blearily slipping shut as he slumped to the side.

“Hey. Hey, Tony!” he gave him a shake and he jolted to attention. “Don’t pass out on me, ambulances are on their way.”

“I’d really like to pass out right now,” Tony muttered.

“Talk to me Tony. Tell me something.”

Tony sighed. “Love it when you get all commanding. Love you.”

Steve gaped at him, about to put that last part down to the head injury, when Tony continued.

“Loved you for years. You are the best thing in the world to me. You’re so good – stubborn, reckless, and you cheat at UNO – but damn, Steve. I love you.”

And once he was confessing his love, done blowing Steve’s foundations to rubble, done filling him with sudden shaking hope, Tony promptly passed out. Steve was too stunned to be mad about it. Though he was sure he’d be mad again later about Tony’s possible concussion.

He heard someone clearing their throat and was confused for a moment, until he heard Hawkeye say, “Is this a good time to remind him that his comms are still on?”

-

Tony woke up in hospital to two-hundred and twenty pounds of anxious super-soldier hovering over him. He could see the rest of the Avengers spread out over the room and he was so goddamn relieved he had to choke back a sob. Bruce was pacing while he read over Tony’s medical chart, Nat was sprawled with her legs over the side of a chair as she idly devoured what Tony was fairly sure was Russian erotica, and Clint and Bruce were taking turns throwing candy into each other’s mouths. Of course, the second Tony made a sound all attention was on him.

“Tony! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” Bruce asked.

“You absolute fucker. You’re getting brought down by shady inn-keepers now?” Clint jibed. He flicked Tony on the arm. “I thought I was supposed to be the one with the shitty medical track record.”

“We’re glad you’re okay,” Nat said gently. Her eyes were sombre. “Relatively speaking.”

Tony weathered it all, awkward and pleased by turns. Never mind how embarrassing it was to have been captured by low-time criminals, they had come for him. The Avengers had come for him and he was safe.

He let his head flop back on the pillow. “Just keeping things interesting. Don’t think I haven’t heard you’ve been looking into jive lessons because you’ve had so much time on your hands lately Nat.”

She bared her teeth at him. “Don’t think we’re not going to talk about the fact that you’ve been sick and didn’t tell us Tony.”

“Oh I think we should dedicate the next team meeting to that alone.” That melodic rumble was one Tony would know in his sleep, in his dreams, anywhere. He rolled his head to the side to where Steve sat by Tony’s bedside, steady as a rock and just as unreadable.

He cringed. “The thought alone is enough to make me break out in hives.”

“What?” Thor teased. “Is this not the vacation you had hoped for? What might you have done differently?”

Tony sighed. The hand that wasn’t currently pinned between Steve’s – and oh wow, Steve was holding his hand, holding it with both hands actually and wow his hands were warm, and big, and that was getting him all fluttery in all kinds of ways – pinched the bridge of his nose. “No,” he sighed. “If I won the pool I was planning to take you to Italy. I have a villa there – a nice, low-key villa – near the town of Palaia. I thought we could explore the countryside, go on a few wine tours, I could take Steve to the art galleries, and teach you all how to make pasta.”

Everyone seemed to slump a little.

“Oh,” Clint pouted. “That actually sounds really nice.”

“Maybe next time.” Bruce’s eyes flicked to Steve’s and Tony suddenly remembered that there was a little something or two he might have said before he slipped into unconsciousness.

“Fanculo la mia vita,” he hissed, going rigid in his bed. _I love you._ He’d actually told his best friend and childhood hero that he loved him. For a moment, Tony thought a heart attack might be the best way to go. Just die in his sleep and save himself the embarrassment because really – he’d really said all that. There was no taking it back. There was nowhere to hide.

“You know what,” Nat said silkily, because of course she’d be the first to cotton on to his discomfort, “I think we should leave these two alone a moment. I think they have some things to discuss.”

Nat flounced out of her seat with elegant grace and was followed out by Clint and Thor, elbowing each other in amusement. Tony turned his pleading eyes on Bruce, but his favourite scientist shrugged apologetically and then was gone. The door shut with a decisive click and long moments of silence stretched between them. Tony felt raw and exposed and so, so embarrassed. His eyes flicked to Steve’s face, but he was getting absolutely nothing from him apart from team-leadery concern.

“Tony…” Steve began hesitantly. He squeezed Tony’s captured hand between his own. “You know I’ve always thought the world of you-”

“Okay, nope, nope that’s enough. We can leave that right there. I’ve had enough let-down speeches to know when to give up on them. Cap.” Tony stared him straight in the face. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking telling you any of that, but it was inappropriate and misguided, and it will never happen again.”

“Tony-”

“No, I’m serious, you don’t have to worry about it. And I won’t let it affect our team life. It never should have happened in the first place.”

“So you…you didn’t mean it?”

Tony couldn’t pin down the expression on Steve’s face, but he felt his own cheeks flush in embarrassment and annoyance. “Of course I meant it,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re smart and generous and one of the most devious little shits out there. You’re literally the most lovable person on the planet, and Steve-”

Steve didn’t let Tony get another word in edgewise. He was too busy kissing him. Tony’s brain might have short-circuited there for a moment. He had Steve’s lips on his and one of Steve’s large, warm hands cupping his face, and oh – yep, oh boy – Steve’s tongue brushing inquisitively against his own. Tony melted. For a long moment, he let himself enjoy this. Then he pulled back.

“Wait, wait,” Tony tried to breathe and retain a braincell or two with which to form a sentence. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Why not?” Steve was nuzzling Tony’s jawline and seeming very unperturbed by Tony’s qualms.

“I-” Kiss. “Don’t want to-” Kiss, kiss. “Make you uncomfortable?”

Steve’s lips trailed down Tony’s neck and he made an inarticulate groan. “Tony. Do I seem uncomfortable to you?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s plush lips grazed over the corner of his neck and – yep. Right where the curve of his neck met his shoulder Steve gave it a nibble. “You could be being harassed?”

Steve pulled back. Okay, even by Tony’s standards that was a weak one. Steve stared him down a moment, before drawing both of Tony’s hands over his head, gently, reverently, until Tony was pinned in place and laid bare. He leaned in until his lips were brushing against Tony’s own, until they were sharing the same space, the same air, everything Tony had ever wanted and never imagined he could ask for.

“Let me make this perfectly clear. I have been gone over you almost since the day I met you. Certainly since I realised fighting with you was the best part of my day. You are warm and kind and giving and incredibly frustrating sometimes, I’m not going to lie-”

“But-”

“ _But_ I never thought I would be lucky enough to have my feelings returned by you.” Steve’s eyes bore into his and Tony wondered how anything could be that blue. “You are the best man I have ever met and my favourite person on this planet.” He dipped in for a thorough kiss that left Tony quaking in his bedsheets. “I love you, Tony.”

“Um, really?”

“Really,” Steve insisted. His face broke out into a giddy smile. Tony blinked at him rapidly. Steve looked like Tony felt – like he couldn’t believe his luck. Like he was only gradually accepting that this was real, that this wasn’t going away. He was allowed this. Steve raised an eyebrow. “Though we are going to talk about viral chest infections and not telling your teammates about illnesses which you would have gotten over much quicker had you not insisted on sneaking around and remaining in the field.”

Tony decided that was the perfect moment to lean up to capture Steve’s lips in his own. He struggled his way out his grip and forced them upright so he could crawl into Steve’s lap.

“Don’t try and distract me.”

“Oh, so you are distracted?” Tony leered. He leaned in to nibble on Steve’s lip and he felt two super-human hands slid down to clasp his ass. “I couldn’t tell.”

“You’re a menace,” Steve snarled, something animalistic in his voice as he helped pull Tony entirely into his lap. “And I really wish we were having this conversation in a different bed.”

Tony shrugged a shoulder elegantly. “We can totally have sex in the medical wing. No one would know.”

Steve grinned at him, eyes dark and pupils blown. “Oh they’d know, sweetheart. You’re not exactly quiet on your best days and once I get you in bed, I plan to make you scream.”

Despite his words – which had Tony more than a little hot and bothered under the collar – he ducked down to brush his lips against the palm of Tony’s hand. He was all fire and simmering heat, but he cradled Tony against him like he was oh so precious.

He smiled back softly. “I love you,” he said. Because it bore repeating.

Tony clasped Steve’s hand in his, even as Steve’s arm clasped around his waist to keep him even more secure, and he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

Safe, loved, and at the centre of Steve’s world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! I had this silly fluff piece sitting around in my WIP folder for ages and thought I should finally finish it. If you enjoyed, leave a kudo or comment xo


End file.
